by K. E. Saxon
Except one, her heart whispered, but she ignored it. For, she would not risk Callum’s life this close to the trial. For the other thing—the patch—would be secret from him no more by night’s end.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she said hurriedly, “I saw my brother and Jesslyn—together—at the waterfall in the wood.”
“Together?”
“Together. I watched them.”
“What!” Callum exclaimed, and then, in a voice as smooth as warmed uisge beatha, “Branwenn.”
She felt his manhood throb against the base of her spine and he pressed her closer still. “Christ’s Bones! I know not whether to be appalled or amused! But, in either case, I admit, the thought of you watching anyone making love causes my blood to rush.”
She lowered her head and looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. She shrugged. “I was curious. They seemed to like what they were doing very much, and I wanted to know what it felt like, so...I asked you.”
Callum nuzzled her neck. “And now you know from experience,” he whispered. “Tell me, is it as good as you hoped? As it seemed to them?”
A gush of moisture flooded the junction of her thighs. “Aaaye,” she sighed, her head lolling to the side to give Callum better access to her neck. Her nipples tightened and abraded the material of her chemise and tunic.
“I think its time, love. We’ve waited long enough.”
“Aye,” she agreed.
The two of them stood and Branwenn watched shyly as Callum hauled first his tunic and then his shirt over his head—him with a knowing grin on his face the entire time!
“Now, ‘tis your turn,” he told her.
“Bu—but you still have on your braies and hose!” She glanced even further down. “And your boots as well!”
“Aye. Those will come off last—after you’ve removed your tunic and shirt.” He came closer and lightly ran his finger over the hem of her shirt’s neckline. “Let me see those sweet breasts, love. I crave another sight of that delightful freckle I found that night.”
She dipped her head and, with numb fingers, released the clasp of her girdle and let it fall to the floor. Next, she began pulling up the hem of her tunic. With a jolt, she felt Callum’s hands move her own aside and he quickly swung the article of clothing over her head and onto the ground at their feet. “Callum!” she squeaked. But, before she had time to recover from that surprise, he did the same with her shirt.
The cool air of the cave had not been lessened to much of a degree by the fire she’d made earlier and her skin pebbled. Her nipples constricted so tightly they stung. She tried to lift her arms to cross herself, but Callum took hold of her wrists and forced them to remain at her side. The sound of his rough breathing amplified and she forced herself to look up at him. The heat in his eyes as he gazed upon her sent rivulets of heat coursing through her, over her. Like warm honey, it traveled across her skin, making her tremble.
“God, has there ever been a lady fairer than you?” Callum said. He was in such a thrall to his bride that he was not even aware he’d spoken the words aloud, until he heard her answer, “Aye, many are much more fair. You should visit the court at Pembroke, if you believe me not.”
“Branwenn,” Callum chided, “have you forgot? I’ve seen my share of lasses and ladies in my time. Question me not on this—you put the stars in the heavens to shame, your beauty burns so bright.”
“Well, you have yet to see the rest of me—you should hold your judgement until then, I trow.”
Callum chuckled. Stroking a stray lock of silky black hair away from her cheek, he said, “Branwenn—I may not have seen you with my eyes these past moons, but I’ve certainly ‘seen’ you with my hands, my mouth, my tongue, my body. I believe I know your loveliness quite well.”
Wait until you see the horrid blot on my thigh! This made her even more nervous. He’d found her attractive thus far—but, God! How she hated that ugly thing. It made her cringe just to look upon it. Which she rarely ever did. How could she expect Callum to feel any differently about the thing? The old nurse was right. He’d surely find it as disgusting as she and the nurse did. Could she bare to see him turn from her in horror? Or worse, to try valiantly to hide his revulsion? Nay, she could not.
Her heart began to pound and she grew dizzy as she tried to catch her breath.
“Branwenn!” Callum stepped closer still. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he bent his knees and tipped his head to the side a bit so that he could see her face more clearly. “What has you so afraid? How can a lass so bold as to secretly watch two lovers coupling be so fearful of allowing her lover—her husband—to see her in the bare?” He pressed his lips to her temple and said softly, “Help me understand, I beg you.”
She began to tremble in his arms, and he knew ‘twas not from desire, but fear.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to him, cradling the back of her head in his hand and pressing his lips to her brow. The feel of their naked upper torsos pressed so tightly together after so many sennights of waiting for this very contact nearly made him go insane with the need to make love to her once more. But he tamped down tight on that urge, understanding that there was something vital regarding her continued shyness with him that needed to be explained and finally, finally, put to rest. “Tell me.”
Branwenn squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I—I’ve a...patch, a mark on me.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God! I know you’ll find it as hideous as I do when you see it!”
Tho’ the last had been muffled, he still understood the words. He lifted her chin and kissed her. Deeply, passionately. She fought him at first, but in moments she was returning the kiss with just as much feeling. When he felt her body relax into him, felt the tension leave her limbs at last, he broke away slightly and murmured, “Take these faery threads from your delectable frame, my love. Let me see this thing that has you so afraid—will you?”
After a brief pause, she nodded and stepped out of his embrace. “Turn around and close your eyes.”
He knew better than to argue with her on that score, for ‘twas plain how skittish she was and he had every intention of doing all in his power to first lessen and then finally rid her of that fear. He did as she bade. In moments, he heard the familiar rustling of ties being loosened, of fabric being slid from bare skin, followed by the light plop when it fell onto the ground. Finally, an even more arousing sound came to his ears: That of her sliding beneath the top sheet on the makeshift bed of furs and the flapping sound of the woolen blanket as she opened it and tossed it atop her as well.
In another moment, she said softly, “All right, you may open your eyes now.”
Callum turned around and gazed upon her for long minutes before he at last reached down and took his boots off. He kept his braies and hose on, however, wanting to take things slow this time. He got in bed beside her. Remaining on top of the blanket, he unhurriedly rolled to position himself snugly over her. Dipping his head, he kissed her. Softly at first, but then ever more passionately, until, at last, he was exploring the recesses of her mouth with his tongue.
Branwenn’s bones soon felt as if they were consistency of warm honey, but somehow she managed to wrap her arms around his waist. As the kiss progressed, her hands began to move over him, exploring first the ridge of muscles along his back and then going lower to rest over the hard, muscular mounds of his linen-covered buttocks. He began to move. Lightly rocking against her as she continued her long caress of his backside. Even through the layers of clothing and bed covering, she could feel the urgency of his arousal pressing against her mons, unerringly searching for that tenderest of places just below its rise that would send her reeling with little effort.
She wanted desperately to open for him, but her lower limbs would not heed her demand. Instead, they remained tightly clamped shut, tho’ all other parts of her body were as fluid as mulled wine warmed o’er a winter hearth.
As Callum kissed his nervous bride, he plann
ed the course of his conquest. Who would have guessed, he thought with amusement, that the tactics of warfare he’d been taught by Bao and Daniel, might easily and successfully be employed when seducing a shy bride?
First, learn your conquest’s weaknesses by thorough exploration and then besiege them using every piece of equipment in your arsenal.
Callum slowly broke away from her mouth and lightly trailed kisses across her cheek; over to her ear, where he spent considerable time teasing her earlobe with his teeth; and then down her neck. At the base, where her neck met her shoulder, he opened his mouth wide, suckling and lightly biting the skin for long minutes. Branwenn whimpered, trembling beneath him and his blood rushed, nearly out of control. But this time he forced his mind to counting bottles of uisge beatha. For he would not hurry this thing. Not this night, and not as had been their habit these past moons. He would take control of his passion for her and he would at last see this mark on her body that she was so afraid for him to see.
Second, employ stealth, where necessary.
He released her at last from his mouth’s grasp and soothed the teeth marks he’d left on her tender skin by circling the design with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh!” Branwenn cried out, arching her back as a shudder of sheer delight swept through her. When he blew on the spot, her canal clenched tight and then widened. She was having trouble catching her breath.
With light, damp kisses, Callum moved further down, ever so slowly tugging the edge of the blanket and sheet away to reveal her naked breasts as he went. He felt her tense beneath him when she realized her upper torso was fully exposed to him, but when he took the peak of her left breast into his mouth and softly tickled it’s rosy bud with his tongue as he began a gentle suction on it, she relaxed for a mere second before furiously arching into him. Her hand came up to the back of his head and she pressed him further against her. “Ohhh God!” she ground out.
Callum scooted his hand under the sheet and blanket that was still pulled up to just below her waist and splayed his fingers through the silken, curly hair covering her mons. He rested it there a moment, gently caressing the soft, cushion-like flesh beneath the hair as he released her left breast and licked, nibbled and kissed his way over the rose-scented, warm flesh valley to her right one and began the same onslaught on that succulent mound.
When her pelvis began rocking against his hand, he crept lower still. Finding her thighs still tightly clamped shut, he wriggled his middle finger down between them and, first taking a bit of her dew onto it from her drenched canal, he brought it up and rotated it over the tender hooded nubbin that crowned her lush sex.
In seconds, her thighs were spread and her hips were churning in rhythm to his finger’s ministration. She was growing so slick now, he was having a hard time staying on target.
Branwenn thrashed her head back and forth and threw her arms high over her head. “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod,” she moaned. She felt her body begin to tremor and quake as Callum brought her ever closer to release.
Knowing she was nearing orgasm, Callum suckled harder on her taut nipple and redoubled his teasing caresses of her sensitive core until she at last climaxed.
“Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!” Her body went rigid with the shattering pleasure of release. When it was over, she collapsed back, breathing hard. Too weak to even open her eyes, she lay there with her head turned to the side, enjoying the slight dizzying effect such an experience always gave her.
Third, wait until your conquest’s guard is down.
Callum swept the covering off her, and off the makeshift bed as well, and for the first time saw the gorgeous, red center of her, ornamented by lovely black curls. “Godamercy!”
Fourth, attack.
Callum swooped.
Branwenn’s eyes flew open and her legs clenched firmly shut. “Oh, God! You hate it! I knew you would! It’s horrid!” She covered her eyes with the base of her palms, her face crumpling.
Fifth, when all else fails, know when to make an organized retreat.
Callum raised up on his knees and looked down at her, mentally kicking himself. “I didn’t see the patch, Branwenn. ‘Twas merely an utterance of desire I gave.” She slid her hands from her eyes and looked at him. He saw hope reflected there, but also dread. “Enough, love. I’m putting out the tapers, for ‘tis not my wish for any portion of our night together to be unpleasant for you.”
He began to rise to his feet, but Branwenn stayed his movement by taking hold of his wrist. “Nay, you mustn’t. For, I promised you that I would reveal all to you this night, and I want you to know all. I beg pardon. Please, give me another chance to do this thing.”
Callum studied her for long seconds. Her dew-misted, crushed violet eyes held regret and earnestness in their depths. “You are sure?” he said at last.
“Aye, I am sure,” she replied.
She surprised him then. She bent her knees and spread her legs wide, revealing even more of herself to him than he’d seen earlier.
His heart tripped and began a hard thudding beat against the inside of his rib cage. Again, his eyes focused only on that lovely feminine berth he longed to explore and, ultimately, find dock in.
Branwenn gritted her teeth and forced her eyes to remain on Callum’s countenance. His eyes were hot emerald coals, his nostrils flared with harsh breath. Curiously, his gaze had yet to settle on the grotesque mark on her left thigh.
“I want to taste you,” he ground out.
Her heart began to pound, both with the familiar anticipation those words always built in her, but also the dread that came with it. She couldn’t explain it, tho’ she’d tried often enough, both to him and to herself, but she feared that he’d be revolted by her flavor. It just didn’t seem clean for some reason. After all, ‘twas the place her flowering came from. Tasting Callum just wasn’t the same thing. Not at all.
“What if you find me...ill-flavored?”
Callum hastily settled on his side beside her, leaning up on his forearm and elbow. “How can you say such? For you are a succulent morsel, my sweet. Sometimes, in fact, I think you are too succulent.” He settled his hand over her abdomen. “Let me taste you finally, the way you’ve tasted me so oft.”
She nodded. “Al...All right”
Callum didn’t give her time to change her mind. With determination and perfect aim, he positioned himself between her thighs and dipped his head to feast upon the feminine banquet laid out before him.
He nearly grew intoxicated on the scent of her alone. ‘Twas the headiest mix of sex dew he’d ever encountered. A perfume of rose-tinged musk and that elusive, incomparable scent that belonged only to Branwenn.
First he teased her labia lips with his tongue, now tasting the moist residue of her earlier release.
Branwenn jolted, her hips rising slightly off the bed.
Callum rested his hands over the sharp blades of her pelvic bones and gently pressed down, in a silent demand to stay still.
He brought his hands down between her thighs and, using his fingers and thumbs, opened her outer lips before continuing his tongue’s exploration of the lovely red scalloped shell of her inner lips. With light, quick strokes, he avidly tasted—every once in a while dipping his tongue into that deliciously moist and cushiony canal that so perfectly cradled and worked his own sex.
Finally, unable to keep himself from it another moment, he plunged his tongue deep inside her, craving to feel those same muscles tug his tongue. Her sheath clenched in reaction and he almost came right then and there. He made a swift retreat, rumbling into her womb, “You taste so, so good.”
“Oh, God! What are you doing to me?” Branwenn cried out, her entire being aflame with the need for release once more. Whatever it was, was keeping her just on the edge of orgasm, making her so desperate for it, she was going mad. She was trying to keep still, as he wanted, but she needed to move, needed to feel his mouth on her where his finger had been earlier. “Please!”
Callum understood. With slow, li
ght strokes he began his journey up to the apex of her sex. When her hips began to move beneath him, he pressed down on her thighs with his forearms, his fingers still spreading her labia lips wide for his onslaught.
When he at last made it to the peak, he stroked and rubbed the tight, turgid little nubbin until her whole body was atremble and her arms and head were thrashing against the bed. Suddenly, sex dew gushed from her canal. Needing to feel her convulse, he sent two fingers into her and began a quick in-and-out motion with them as his tongue continued its rapid lapping.
“Callum!” Branwenn arched her back, her hips rising high off the bed as she tumbled into the intensely gratifying abyss of sexual release.
When Branwenn was just past the crest, Callum suckled the nubbin into his mouth. He continued to send his fingers inside of her as he did so, and in the next second, his efforts were rewarded when Branwenn groaned and splintered once again.
Callum hurriedly pulled off his braies and, just as she was settling back, positioned himself on his knees between her thighs and plunged. High and deep. “Aarrgh!” he yelled, throwing his head back. With his hands on her hips, and her knees crooked over his forearms, he lifted her even higher.
She was so slick now, he had little trouble slipping further inside her. Before he knew it, the head of his sex was pounding against her womb and she was coming again, her strong inner muscles tugging him and taking him so close to heaven he began to see stars behind his lids.
He was sweating and straining now, straining not to come inside her, but desperate for this pleasure not to end so soon.
Finally, leaning forward, he placed his hands near her head and rested his weight on his palms, forcing her legs to splay over his shoulders.
This caused her to climax again, bringing him to completion as well. “God’s Bones!” he yelled in a strangled voice, jerking out of her at the last minute, his seed spewing instead on her dewy, quivering belly.